Conscience
by baker's huntress
Summary: Fitz is back to his old self, and Simmons is greatly relieved. Post-Seeds.


**Conscience**

Summary: Fitz is back to his old self, and Simmons is greatly relieved. Post-Seeds.

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to _Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D._ does not belong to me.

A/N: This story is a follow up to my story 'Beliefs,' which took place during the episode _The Magical Place_. But you don't have to read it to understand this story. 'Conscience' takes place after the events of the episode _Seeds_. So if you haven't seen _Seeds_ yet, what the hell are you waiting for?! Watch it right now!

* * *

"How about eyeglasses?"

Jemma looked up from the kitchen counter where she was preparing their lunches and shifted her gaze towards her best friend, who was currently setting up the plates, napkins, utensils, and their beverages on the dinning table. She gave him a fond smile even as she shook her head.

"No? What's wrong with glasses?"

"Besides perpetuating the stereotype regarding nerds and glasses? Fitz, your eyes don't even _need_ corrective lenses."

"They don't have to be corrective," he countered back. "They could just be, you know, _decorative_." Jemma let out a dainty little laugh.

"_Decorative_?" she teased.

"Yeah, that did sound kind of _girly_, didn't it?" He furrowed his brows, making Jemma laugh again. Leo turned to glare at her, but it slowly dissolved into a smile then blossomed into a chuckle as he joined in her merriment. "Fine. No glasses," he conceded as their laughter faded.

"Good." Jemma placed their lunches on a large plate, then spread a paper napkin on top to hide them from view. She grabbed the plate and made her way to the other room. "What else you've got?" Once Jemma reached him, they both sat at opposite sides of the table so they were facing each other.

"Well, we already ruled out dyeing my hair a darker color and changing the way I dressed…." He looked down in contemplation before picking up his spoon to look at his warped reflection on the back of it. "I know! I could grow facial hair. That would make me look older for sure!" His eyes and his smile radiated with his enthusiasm, and Jemma didn't have the heart to shoot down another one of his ideas. So she just smiled in silence.

Unfortunately, Leo knew his partner well, and therefore knew what her silence meant. Leaning back in his seat, he folded his arms and gave her a pointed stare.

"All right, what's wrong with facial hair?"

"It's just…." Jemma hesitated and gave him an apologetic smile before continuing. "Remember our first semester in the Academy when we had our final exams? When you didn't shave for a week because you deemed it more important to spend every waking moment preparing for those exams?"

"Yeah. What of it?"

"You looked scruffy."

"But I looked _older_, didn't I?"

"But you looked _scruffy_."

The two friends stayed silent as they looked at each other with narrowed eyes, daring the other to blink first. Suddenly, Leo's stomach made a loud grumbling noise. Not a second after it stopped, both Leo and Jemma lost their composures and laughter once again filled the Upper Deck of the BUS.

"Let's just eat first," Jemma suggested after they got a hold of themselves. "Maybe you'll start getting some _good_ ideas once we get some food in you."

"I agree. We _should_ eat because I _am _starving. But I'm not dropping the idea of growing facial hair just yet. I think it's the _best_ idea I've come up with," and he gave Jemma a cheeky smile that had her giggling. "So what are we having? And why all the secrecy? I could have helped you in the preparations, you know?"

"What part of 'it's a surprise' don't you understand, Fitz?" She smiled up at him to show she was joking. "And as for the 'what,' well…." She slowly, dramatically lifted the napkin off of the plate. And Fitz lit up in excitement when he realized what it was.

"Prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella!" Jemma unnecessarily announced.

"With a hint of your home-made pesto aioli?" He tensed, eyes begging her to say yes. And she was more than happy to oblige.

"Of course!" She watched in amusement as his shoulders sagged down in relief. Then he grabbed the sandwich nearest to him and took a big bite. The satisfied moan Leo gave as he chewed filled Jemma with happiness. It was only when he took his second, and smaller, bite did she start eating hers.

"Thanks, Jemma," he said after swallowing. Then an uncertain smile made its way to his lips. For a second, Jemma worried she hadn't prepared his favorite sandwich correctly. But he dashed those thoughts away with his next sentence. "This is delicious. As always." His words were sincere. But his expression remained.

"Then why do you look so uncertain?" she asked as she placed her sandwich on the plate in front of her.

"Hey! Don't look like that," he said in mild panic when Jemma's smile disappeared. He placed his sandwich down. "I was just trying to figure out what special occasion I've forgotten, that's all." She looked at him in confusion. "I know it's not your birthday. Nor mine. Nor any of the others' or they'd be here with us as well instead of working on whatever it is they're working on right now. I don't believe there's a holiday. And I don't think it's an anniversary. Do we even celebrate any anniversaries?"

"Fitz, there doesn't need to be a special occasion for us to enjoy your favorite sandwich," Jemma stated, mostly in amusement. But a hint of exasperation escaped into her voice as well.

"Lately, there has to be. We don't touch down long enough for us to go grocery shopping. And if we do, we're not usually in an area that would sell all the ingredients you'll need. The only time you get everything is when you specifically ask Coulson to land in a place that would sell 'em. And he'd only give in if it were a special occasion. So what is it, Jemma? What have I forgotten?" And he looked so sorry and so guilty that it made Jemma's heart twinge. She reached over the table to grab each of his hands in hers.

"Stop over-thinking things, Leo. You've done nothing wrong. And you've forgotten _nothing_." She felt him turn his hands over so their palms were touching. Then he gave her hands a squeeze with his.

"I _know_ there's a special occasion. Please, Jemma, tell me," he pleaded with her. His eyes were so intense that Jemma had to look away. She leaned back in her seat, causing her hands to pull away from his. Already, she was missing the warmth of his hands against hers. She clasped her hands together to try to get the warmth back. It didn't work. Then, she mustered up her courage to look into the eyes of the person before her.

"I got my best friend back," she said simply. And Leo's face scrunched in confusion.

"Do you have another best friend? 'Cause I'm _pretty_ sure I haven't left your side." The small laugh that left Jemma's mouth was devoid of any humor.

"Yes, physically, you _were_ there. But…but you've changed. Right before my eyes, you were changing into someone I did not recognize." She watched Leo's face relax as realization dawned on him.

"Oh, you mean when Coulson was taken? When I turned into Darth Fitz?"

This time, Jemma's laugh was more genuine. And she began to relax.

"Of course you'd use a _Star Wars _reference."

"Well, we did just finish watching the Trilogy. Now stop changing the subject. Was that what you meant?" Jemma gave a long sigh.

"Yes, during your time as Darth Fitz," she conceded. "You weren't you anymore. After some time, I wanted so badly to find Coulson, not _just_ so we could rescue him and bring him back home. But also so that you'll go back to your old self. And…and it worked! You started joking around again. Smiling and laughing again. You have no idea how relieved and even _grateful_ I was to whatever high deity that existed when you resubmitted your request for a monkey assistant." She gave a watery laugh, and it was only then that she realized that she'd started crying. And as she dabbed her eyes with a clean napkin, she wasn't surprised to feel Leo's body press at her side or his arm wrap around her center, pulling her close. She turned in her seat to bury her face in his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his neck.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know I scared you that badly," he whispered next to her ear.

"Stop being sorry. You couldn't help it. I'm just so happy you're back," she said, giving him another squeeze.

"You're wrong about something, though," Leo said a minute later. Jemma pulled back slightly, a look of confusion on her face. "When you said saving Coulson saved me. That wasn't what, well, brought me back from the Dark Side." Jemma giggled as she rolled her eyes.

"Then what did save you?"

"You did." She tilted her head to the side more confused than she was before.

"I don't understand."

"Remember that day in the crates? When you confronted me about your worries about me? When you told me that you—

"That I have always believed in you? Yes, I do remember," she said with a smile.

"I didn't realize how far down the Dark Side I've gone until you pointed it out to me. I was so angry and frustrated and confused that I didn't care _how_ we got Coulson back. I didn't care what we had to do. But you…you're like my guiding light. My conscience, even. Always showing me wrong from right. Pulling me back when I've gone too far. I'm afraid of what would have become of me if you hadn't been so persistent in being friends with a loner like me back at Academy."

"You worry that you would have ended up like Donnie." She wasn't asking.

"At first I did. Seeing his room, it was like I've gone back in time and stepped into my room…except that Donnie was a lot better in keeping his room neat and tidy. And we both kept things to ourselves growing up because no one understood us.

"But our pasts were different. Even though Mom didn't understand, she supported me. And when Dad was alive, he'd always believed in me. I was never starved for attention as much as he was. And I was a lot more…_wary_ of people. It even took you, Ms. Sunshine and Optimism, six _months_ to coax me into the Boiler Room. I wouldn't have let someone manipulate me like Seth had done with Donnie.

"But I know that without you, I wouldn't have ended up like Donnie. I would have ended up _worse_." To say his admission shocked Jemma would have been an understatement. She was baffled beyond belief.

"Surely you don't mean that?" she asked, horrified. He stared at her for a few seconds before explaining.

"The first time you visited my room so we could work on—

"—an assignment for Dr. McCoy's class. We were assigned as partners."

"Yes. You looked at my designs and—

"—they were all mostly weapons," she finished, remembering along with him. "_Very_ dangerous weapons…." He nodded solemnly.

"But you suggested I make a make them _less_ dangerous. Maybe knock a person out but not kill them. You briefly mentioned something about preservation of life and or something like that."

"Was I being so obnoxiously assertive without realizing it?"

"No! You weren't. You were nice about it, in fact. Said it like you were doing so in passing, then started up on the assignment without ever mentioning it again. But after you left, what you said made me think about the type of engineer I wanted to become. I thought about Albert Einstein and how he must have felt when they dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. And Tony Stark when he found out his weapons were being used by the enemy to kill American soldiers. And I realized that I didn't want to know how they felt. That night, I destroyed all those designs to make sure no one copies them. I started from scratch, designing my inventions with a new and different outlook—_your _outlook."

Jemma blushed at his words and looked away. She never realized just how much influence she's had on him. When she looked at him again, it was to see him looking down at her intently. _Adoringly_.

And Jemma found it hard to breathe.

Suddenly, the plane gave a jerk, breaking whatever moment they were having. Jemma didn't know whether to be thankful for it or not.

"Well, looks like we're heading into rough airways," she said, pulling back farther from her partner. "We better finish our lunches before it gets too turbulent to do so." Leo nodded and pulled back as well. Then he slid off of his seat to return to his place across from her.

Both of them tried to ignore the uncomfortable silence that lingered by chewing on their respective sandwiches. After a few minutes, Jemma couldn't take it any longer and decided to break the silence by continuing their earlier conversation.

"So…facial hair is definitely off of the list," she said, hoping Leo would follow her lead. He did not disappoint.

"No it's not," he said with a teasing, _friendly_ smile.

"Oh, come on, Fitz! You'll look all scruffy and scratchy, and you'll no longer match your wardrobe!"

"Then I'll get a whole new set of clothes."

"You take that back! You are _not_ getting rid of your clothes. You look adorable in them!" she said with a smile. But then she noticed Leo's expression change, and her breath got caught in her throat again. "W-why," she pauses to clear her throat. "Why are you so intent on looking older? Like you said, eventually Skye and I will stop teasing you about looking young 'cause we'll be 'jealous, wrinkly old hags?'" she attempted to joke. It failed. His look remained. And she started to feel like she was drowning. But in the very best way possible.

"You'd never look like a hag even when you get older. I've met your mother, and you take after her. She's beautiful. And you're even more so."

At that moment, the plane gave another jerk. And another moment was broken.

"What the bloody hell is May doing?" he exclaimed loudly.

"I'm sure she's not doing it on purpose. The airways in this area can be a bit rough with the jet streams and all."

"Then she should get out of it. How are we going to conduct our experiments in these conditions?"

"Relax, I'm sure she's correcting the problem right now. Speaking of our experiment, what do you think caused the overheating—

"—of the motor? I can't say for sure. I have to run some more simulations. But I believe…."

And the biochemist and her engineer spent the next half-hour talking about their experiment and finishing their lunch, both ignoring the ever-present feeling that something was unfinished.

* * *

_Meanwhile, in the cockpit:_

"Phil, you do that one more time, and you'll _wish_ you were back in Tahiti," threatened May from her place in the pilot seat. Coulson was in the seat beside her.

"That was sabotage, AC!" exclaimed Skye from where she stood behind them. "He was going to do it! I know he was. He was _so_ going to kiss her."

"I agree they had a moment—

"They had _two_ moments, Ward." She glared at her S.O., who was standing next to her with a smirk that she found highly annoying.

"—but he didn't seal the deal."

"Only because AC sabotaged them. So this was our win since he interfered. You and AC owe both May and I ten bucks, _each_."

"Skye," came the jokingly condescending voice of their superior officer, "He didn't kiss her. They did not get together today, so you and May have not won yet."

"And look," Ward said in the same mock-superior tone, "It's calm right now, and FitzSimmons look like they're just talking about their work." They all looked at the view screen that showed the footage (unfortunately for them, no audio) streaming in from the dinning area. "It doesn't look like they're confessing their undying love for each other."

"That's because Phil will just ruined it if they have another moment," muttered May in annoyance, but everyone present heard her. They watched as FitzSimmons, having finished their meal, cleaned up and left the Upper Deck to return to their lab a floor below.

"This isn't over," Skye said with more than a hint of irritation. "It's not the end of the week, yet. May and I could still win this."

"I don't think so, Rookie." And at that moment, she wanted nothing more than to punch her S.O. in the face.

**End**


End file.
